Vignettes of a Thousand Nights
by Boris the Stoned Piggy
Summary: Just a series of non-chronological one-shots from Eric Northman's life. Current chapters are being edited and new ones are in the works. Review?
1. Father

**Father**

There it was.

How could he forget it?

As a child, he would reach up to grab it as he sat in his father's lap, eager to wear it proudly and regally like Father did. Ulfric would always laugh every time his son tried to grab it off his head and would plant an approving kiss on the toddler's cheek. He remembered looking up at Father in admiration because he looked mighty and powerful, two things he wanted to be.

Those days swiftly disappeared as the child grew up. He became a well-known womanizer in their tribe and was forever being chastised by Father. He wasn't turning out to be the man Father wanted him to be. One night, they had argued and he had stormed off.

Unbeknownst to him, this was the last time they would ever speak again.

"And this?" queried Eric as he looked closer at the crown.

"Just some random tribal crown" answered Talbot.

_It's more than that you whiny little bitch. _

"Uh this one's Asythian, I think"

His grip on the crown tightened as his face twisted with rage.

"Viking"


	2. Sex

**This one-shot's obviously R rated (hence the M rating of this fic) and I strongly advice you make sure no one's looking over your shoulder or drive away your little siblings/cousins/neighbors whatever so you can read in peace.**

**A little taste of Eric's, er, special bonding (how ironic) time with Yvetta. **

**Takes place in "Bad Blood" (Season 3) before Sookie arrives at Fangtasia and sees them...bonding. **

**Nothing's mine as usual. **

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><p><strong>Sex<strong>

He was close. So very close. When he felt the pleasure beginning to peak in him, he bit his lower lip and grit his teeth to stave off the incoming wave. Yvetta, however, had a disappointing lack of self-control, and kept cumming every five minutes.

But then again, one couldn't help but cum when one was being penetrated at lightning speed by a vampire who had limitless stamina.

He had her arms strung up in chains to the ceiling so that he didn't need to go through the trouble of carrying her as he pummeled into her core.

Besides, this was kinkier.

Despite the fact that they had been at it for a quite some time, he always managed to steel himself and not give in to the constant squeezing and tightening of her muscles. So the only screams of pleasure that echoed across the dark and dank basement were hers.

If his count was accurate, it was now 11 pm. Five hours. He knew it was time to let go.

With a furious roar, he came, his essence spurting violently out of him and filling her up.

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><p><strong>You know what to do.<strong>


	3. First Meeting

**This one-shot's longer than the others 'cause this one tells the story of how Eric met Pam. Sweet, sarcastic, brutal little Pam. **

**I really love their maker-child relationship more than Bill and Jessica's. It's so sibling/bestfriend-like and their scenes together are hilarious. **

**Pam's backstory is basically derived from the Season 5 trailer (kept screaming HOLY SHIT ERIC AND PAM IN BED OH MY GOD) and Pam's "I am not a hooker, that was a long long time ago" comment to Lafayette in Season 2. **

**Nothing's mine, as usual. But I wish I could keep Alexander Skarsgard in my closet. **

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><p><strong>First Meeting<strong>

Eric had had his eye on this one for some time.

Pamela Swynford de Beaufort, he learned, was her name. She had caught his eye when he had first come to the brothel two weeks ago when she had grabbed a young man -who was clearly there on the account of losing his virginity- without a word, slammed him on the countertop, and rode him furiously right then and there. Then the child had paid her an extravagant amount of money afterwards and left the establishment with a dazed expression on his face. She slipped the cash she had received into her cleavage and sauntered off to a nearby table of men- some of them grasping their cocks- with a smug smile.

He found her little display amusing and he decided to watch her a little longer. She was beautiful, deadly, and entertaining; the very traits he desired in a companion. Since he and Godric had gone their separate ways fifty years before, he was feeling a tad bit lonely.

He watched her from the corner as she set about ensnaring an elderly business man. She was wearing a tight maroon corset that accentuated her slim but curvaceous body, cut low to display her generous breasts in all their splendor. She had been whispering dirty little things into the man's ear when a fat man in a shabby black suit came in, grabbed her by the neck, and slammed her against the wall.

"Jesus Winston, if you really wanted more than two nights, you could've just asked!" she croaked out, her eyes widening in anger.

"Fucking thief!" he spat at her face. "My stash is missing and I can only think of one person who took them!"

"You'll get your fucking drugs when you grow a cock!" she snapped back. His lips drew back in a snarl and his grip tightened. Her throat was closing off, blocking the travel of air. Her end would've come in a few moments had Eric not appeared at Winston's side and punched him in the face. She was released landed hard on the rough wooden floor. She groaned in pain and raised her head to see Winston's body crash against the wall. Then the body slid down, leaving a dark wet trail on the wall.

"Are you alright?"

She looked up and stared at him. A tall blonde stranger was smiling down at her, offering her his hand. He was handsome, and the silk shirt and top hat indicated that he was rich.

There was something else though. As she gazed up at his grinning face, she felt something tugging at her, a primal instinct screaming for her to run.

"Yes" she said, taking his hand. She fought back a shiver that rose up her spine when his skin came into contact with hers. _Cold._

"Thanks for that."

"Don't mention it" he replied.

If this were any other man, she would've walked away and attended to the other vermin. But this one, she knew, was a different sort, and she was intrigued.

"I'm Pam"

"Eric Northman, at your service"

"I'm really grateful for what you've just done for me, Eric" she purred, her voice slipping into the seductive tone she used on her customers as she traced his cheek. "And I think, I should show you just how grateful I can be"

His eyes – as piercing and as blue as hers – flickered upwards to where he knew the rooms were.

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><p><strong>Purple button guys. Purple button. :3<strong>


	4. Last First Kiss

**Eric's first real kiss with Sookie in "Fresh Blood" (Season 3).**

**I changed the first version 'cause the way I wrote it was off. I can only hope this re-edited one-shot can do even a fraction of justice to the scene.**

**Even though I've watched the scene a million times, it never fails to keep me on the edge and make my heart explode.**

**Kudos to Alex and Anna for having such passionate chemistry. In my opinion, it's probably the best kiss scene on TV ever. I think Damon and Elena's kiss in "Heart of Darkness" on The Vampire Diaries follows closely behind though. **

**As usual, I own nothing. **

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><p><strong>Last First Kiss<strong>

"There are forces beyond even my control"

He stepped close to her, close enough to count every fleck of honey in her brown eyes.

"If I meet the true death, without having at least kissed you Sookie Stackhouse"

She blinked rapidly, wondering if he was being serious or trying to get her to bed with him.

"That would be my biggest regret"

His eyes were locked with hers, their blue color richer than usual.

So he was being serious.

"Why does it sound like you're saying goodbye to me?"

_Please don't say you are. _

"Because I am"

Before she could feel even a stab of despair, he grabbed her face and started kissing her. Naturally, she fought back, but the more she tried to push him away, the tighter his grasp and more desperate his kisses grew. Resistance was futile, and she ended up responding with an unexpected ardor, her lips matching the ferocity of his own.

He let his impending death and his centuries-long vendetta slip away momentarily from his mind.

Instead he focused on savoring the moment with her in his arms, even if his first real kiss with her, would be his last.

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><p><strong>Review my darlings. I'll keep updating if you do.<strong>


	5. War

**As usual, nothing belongs to me. Everything, of course, goes to Charlain Harris, Allan Ball, and HBO. **

**I know I haven't updated at all and I feel so bad about it, especially since I was beginning to enjoy writing this series of little one-shots and getting feedback. I've been really busy lately and there's a lot of life changing stuff going on (I'm serious) and it's really taken a lot of my time.**

**Thank you guys, for giving this fic a chance, for the feedback, and I'm glad you guys liked it.**

** I truly am sorry that I left you guys waiting around (and possibly violently swearing at the laptop) for me to update.**

**Since I have about two months before I go to school and a lot of free time, I will TRY to update as much as I can and to develop the discipline to finish things I started. I can't promise that this will be updated on a regular basis though. **

**Anyway, thank you Bkaa19 for suggesting I write a war one-shot about Eric in the good ol' days when he was a Viking. **

**Actually, I have been thinking of doing a war one-shot, but I never really set myself to writing one because I find describing battles to be quite difficult and I think my usage of words tends to be awkwardly placed or off. **

**But then again, I tried. So I hope this is fine. **

**This is a made up scene taking place shortly before Eric's flashback scene in Never Let Me Go when he and his two comrades are in the forest. I had a feeling they were in battle just before that since Eric was dying at that point so this story could have actually happened. **

**The names of the two men with him aren't their official names and I just randomly got them from the internet.**

**Hope you guys like this!**

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><p><strong>War<strong>

The air was heavy with the heat of combat and filled with the cacophony of dying screams and metallic clanging as he staggered across the battlefield. His men were being killed off at an alarming rate and legions of enemy warriors were closing in on their unit. Though there were some of his men who fought valiantly in an attempt to hold off the incoming forces, he knew that they would soon be finished.

The blood was flowing heavily and freely from where an enemy blade had slashed him. He could hear his heartbeat thudding violently in his ears and his vision grew blurry and reddish at the edges. Though the wound was just below his heart, it was deep enough to speed up his journey to the halls of Valhalla.

He stopped when he saw the rival chieftain standing before him, his scarred face twisted up into a sadistic grin with his sword raised to end his life.

The sight of the bastard's expression and the crushing threat of his entire tribe's enslavement made him realize that even at the brink of death, he could not give in. His people entrusted their faith in him to defend them and he would fulfill his promise to ensure their safety, even at the cost of his own life.

He was a warrior, and a warrior must go down fighting up to his very last breath.

He drew a deep breath, rallied his resolve and remaining strength and charged with a roar at the chieftain. A fierce battle ensued, the metallic ringing of the swords as they clashed against each other accompanied by their animalistic roars.

Finally, it ended when he managed to gain the upper hand and with one swift movement, he sliced the chieftain's head off.

He tried to stand straight but found himself unsteady on his feet. He then collapsed heavily to the ground, most of his strength having been exhausted in the fight and having lost so much blood.

Ingvar and Olaf, his two generals, saw Eric's fallen body and thinking him dead, ran to claim him before their enemies had the chance to drag him off.

Ingvar flipped Eric onto his back and listened to his chest to see if he was indeed dead. Relief flooded him when he felt it rise and fall, albeit weakly.

Knowing they had to get away before they were seized, Olaf pointed to the forest and with great effort, hooked his arms under Eric's in order to help him stand.

Making sure they were not seen, they took off into the cover of the trees, away from the bloodshed.

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><p><strong>I'd really appreciate reviews, suggestions on one-shots, feedback on my writing, and support! :)<strong>

**P.S. Are you guys excited for the upcoming season 5? : I know I am. I was practically squealing at the computer screen while watching the first trailer. **


	6. Day

**This is what I imagined to be Eric's reaction at seeing the sun for the first time in centuries. **

**I edited the first version of this one after realizing that the way I wrote it was terrible.**

**Gap-filler in the episode "Fresh Blood" (Season 3) when he steps out of Fangtasia after drinking Sookie's blood. **

**Nothing belongs to me as usual. **

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><p><strong>Day<strong>

Cautiously, he extended his hand into the daylight. He waited for the burning sensation to come, but it didn't. Instead he felt pleasantly warm, the sun rays making the pale alabaster flesh glow with a radiance he hadn't seen on his skin since he was a human.

After a thousand years of night, he'd already forgotten what it was like to walk in the sun. How the light seemed bathe everything in its golden rays. How the warmth settled deep into your skin and made you feel alive. How glorious the contrast the distant ball of light made with the cloud streaked azure skies.

Though vampires were superior to humans in every way possible, Eric could now understand why this was the one human experience they coveted and perhaps, missed.

Even if he'd wanted to, he knew he didn't have time to enjoy this blood-given luxury.

He had a job to do.

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><p><strong>Comments, reviews, constructive criticism is welcome. :D<strong>


	7. Gone

**Off-screen, imagined scene after Sookie skips into fairyland and Eric senses she's gone. **

**I really do wonder how he reacted to her not being around. I hope they have a scene for that one in Season 5. **

**As usual, nothing belongs to me. **

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><p><strong>Gone<strong>

_Fucking Compton, _Eric thought as he was taking a shower.

_First, he's an annoying southern prick. Second, he's an annoying southern prick who gets the most extraordinary woman (who happens to be part-fae) to bed him. Third, he's an annoying southern prick who did it on Queen Sophie Ann's orders (fuck her too) without my knowledge. _

_Fourth, he's an annoying southern prick who tries to bury me alive AND! gets cement in my hair. _

He punched the tiled wall and a low growl escaped his lips in response to his antipathetic thoughts towards said prick. The wall cracked and a few bits of tile were sent tinkling to the floor.

_At least I managed to expose him tonight for the lying, manipulative fool he is. _

He took great satisfaction in outing his dirty little secret...but he hated seeing her like that. The devastation so raw upon her face at the revelation of Bill's motives for seeking her out. If he had had even a shred of compassion in him, he would've stayed with her through the night, holding her while he dried her tears.

But he didn't. Besides, she'd kicked them both out.

As he mulled over the events that had transpired a mere hour ago, a strange sensation overcame him.

Something wasn't right; there was an absence in him that he couldn't explain. It felt like he had entered a room and took note of every piece of furniture in it, only to come back to see that something was missing.

His brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of what just happened.

Then a few minutes later, it hit him with the force of a thousand silver bullets.

Her presence. He couldn't sense it anymore.

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><p><strong>Push the purple button. The sexy, shiny, purple button. <strong>


	8. Exception

**How Sookie compares to the countless humans Eric's been with. **

**Nothing's mine of course.  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Exception<strong>

Eric Northman had had his fair share of humans in his long life.

Most of them were dispensable, just shiny new toys for him to play with and throw away on a whim.

Some caught his interest and entertained him for awhile, the longest lasting a year.

None, he deigned to care for.

True they offered sustenance and pleasure, but that didn't mean he didn't find most of them insufferable. The pathetic way they offered their throats and bodies to him, staring starry-eyed at him as if he were a god. They were all the same. Weak-willed, their minds and bodies easily controlled and manipulated with a snap of his fingers. It was dreadfully easy.

The one exception, however, was her.

_Sookie Stackhouse. _

She was a challenge, one he'd never encountered. He admired her spirit; it was evident in the way she acted and spoke when he first met her. He also knew she was fearless; slapping him across the face was something another human wouldn't even dare consider.

But she aggravated him as well. She didn't know when to shut up, even faced with an erratic king with a penchant for violence. She was stubborn; her inability to sit still often led to life-threatening situations which she always needed to be rescued from. She tended to let her emotions rule her; he'd seen her sob great big baby sobs too many times and it unsettled him.

He could ignore those few annoying traits, but the one that bothered-even angered-him the most, was the fact that he could never conquer her. Her immunity to his power made her indomitable, like a boulder resting on a riverbed, resisting the surge of water.

Why he couldn't just leave her alone, he didn't know.

But he couldn't deny that his interest in her was growing more and more with each sunset.

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><p><strong>Review?<strong>


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